Lost Hunter
by The Lonely Lady of Shallot
Summary: Brandy used to be Dean Winchester's girlfriend, until he was dragged to Hell by Lilith after selling his soul to save the life of his younger brother, Sam. A month and half has passed since then, and she's been on her own for a while. She ends up in the California town of Santa Carla, where she meets the Lost Boys. She thinks she might stay in town, when Dean shows up alive.
1. The Murder Capital of the World

_"No," I muttered under my breath as I ran into the room to see whether we beat that bitch Lilith at her own game and saved Dean. Instead I was greeted by the sight of Sam, Dean's younger brother, cradling Dean's horribly mauled body in his arms. I couldn't stop myself from breaking down. "No! No! No! Dean!" I screamed as my body moved to collapse next to Sam, who moved out of the way to let me hold my boyfriend's corpse. I was balling my eyes out as I cradled his bloodied head in my arms and rested my forehead on his. My desperate voice incessantly pleaded with the dead man to be okay. "No, please, come back to me Dean, I need you, please…"_

With that I slowly woke up to find myself still crying in a cold sweat and my cheap motel pillow wet from the tears. I had arrived in Santa Carla, California earlier this morning, checked into this motel called The Sea Bed, and stupidly decided to go to sleep for a little bit. I had been so tired from all the driving that I had risked the nightmares to try and get even an hour of sleep. It had been a month and a half since my boyfriend and fellow hunter, Dean Winchester, had been dragged to Hell by Lilith and my brain refused to let me forget that whenever I closed my eyes. It had also been 2 weeks since I ditched Dean's little brother Sam after finding out what he had been doing behind my back. I had tried to watch over him like Dean asked me to, to make sure he didn't do anything stupid, but I had no control nor authority over his actions.

After being abandoned by him for what felt like the 100th time, I decided to put a tracker on his car without him knowing it. The next time he abandoned me to finish a hunt on my own, I tracked his ass to a motel a couple towns over from where we were and was outraged by what I found. I busted down the door to his room to find him in bed with that demon bitch Ruby. This had led to a fight that eventually turned physical, ending in Sam pushing me so hard that I made a sizable dent in the motel room's wall. After that I stormed out and I haven't seen or heard from him since.

Unfortunately, having been the girlfriend of one of the hunters on the Hell's most wanted list meant that the price on my head went up as soon as I went out on my own. Not that I mind, the only cases I cared about now were the ones involving demons. Since I couldn't save Dean from being dragged to Hell, I am going to take down every demon I can get my hands on. So now here I was in a relatively decent motel room in Santa Carla, California. Why Santa Carla you ask? Well, there are two main reasons why:

I really needed to relax after everything that had happened to me the last month and a half and what better place than a small beach town with a nice boardwalk.

It's also known as the "Murder Capital of the World," so I figured that I would probably stumble onto a job here anyways.

Staring at the dingy blue ceiling above me I sighed. "Guess I should hit the town," I said aloud to myself. My whole body felt like it was complaining as I sat up and threw my legs over the edge of the bed. With the constant nightmares, I barely ever got enough sleep and it was starting to catch up with me. I was starting to feel weaker both mentally and physically, causing me to question whether I should even be hunting right now. Looking at the clock on the nightstand it read 10:30 am, meaning I had slept less than 2 hours. I couldn't help but groan at my inability to just get some restful sleep. My eyes were then draw to the cell phone I had sitting next to the clock. For the next couple minutes, I sat there staring at it, wondering if I should call Bobby. I know that he would let me crash at his place until I felt okay enough to hunt without all the added risks of sleep deprivation. But he would ask me about Sam, since the giant idiot never called him, and I don't think I have the heart to tell him the truth. And since I hated lying to Bobby, that idea was a scrapped from the drawing board.

I had also already decided that I wouldn't hole up in some place and wallow around in my grief. Bobby would probably tell me that I was running away from issues by burying myself in our work. I got up and stretched, hearing some things pop and crack in the process, and looked at the mess that was me in the full-length mirror attached to the outside of the closet door. I had gone to sleep in my clothes that I had been traveling in since I left the last town I had stayed in and my wavy walnut hair was all over the place. I groaned and rubbed my once vibrant azure eyes that were now a cloudy steel blue with large bags under them. Then I smiled, remembering how one time Dean looked at me with those shiny emeralds of his and told me how he would face his fear of flying if it meant he could soar forever in the endless blue of my eyes. "Hey, what happened to no 'chick-flick' moments?" I had joked with him to lighten the mood. After he had decided to accept his fate and not try to get out of his crossroads deal, he got in the habit of telling me mushy stuff like that all the time, like he wanted to make sure that I verbally knew how much he loved me before he couldn't tell me anymore.

Shaking my head out of those memories before they turned from sweet to sorrowful, I grabbed my toiletries and entered the bathroom to get ready for the day. After showering, blow-drying my hair, and brushing my teeth, I was finally digging through my clothes and trying to decide what to wear.

In the shower and while drying my hair, I had decided that I was going to check out the boardwalk tonight and just let go a little. After all, it had been quite a long time since I was single, so why shouldn't I try to have a little bit of fun? I certainly felt that I deserved it. I didn't really plan on hooking up with anyone since I couldn't even imagine being with someone like that who wasn't Dean. But I was going to get all done up so that I could extort some free drinks out of dopy drunks and dirty minded bartenders and hustle them out of their money.

I chose my favorite off the shoulder lavender top with my old faded pair of high waisted jeans. Once my boots were on, I started arming myself with the standard things I always carry with me. Silver blade sheathed in my right boot, pocket knife and flask of holy water on my hip, a couple sticks of chalk in my pocket (You never know when you'll need to make a quick demon trap.), and my trusty handgun tucked into the back of my jeans (with the safety on of course). Makeup was never really my thing, since taking out monsters didn't really require looking like a model and my natural beauty was impressive on its own. Looking in the mirror again, I reached up to blue chalcedony pendent around my neck. The gemstone hasn't left my neck since I put it on many years ago when my father had gotten it for me. Before my mind started to drift too far into the past, my phone dinged from the nightstand. I walked over and picked it up, reading that it was a text from Jo Harvelle. It read, "Hey Brandy! You still alive and in one piece?"

I couldn't help but smile ear to ear at her concern. Jo was like a little sister and best friend to me. I had been relieved when we had found out that she and Ellen hadn't been at the Roadhouse when it was destroyed. I answered back, "Yeah, I'm still breathing with all my limbs intact." While I waited for her response, I grabbed my wallet and room key, stuffing them in my chalk free pocket. I would be walking to the boardwalk instead of driving since the motel was only a block away. Finally ready to leave, I scooped my worn-down leather jacket off the floor, headed out the door and locked it behind me. As I started to my walk to the boardwalk, my phone pinged again.

"Good to hear. Just worried about you. Be careful and keep in touch k?"

"Ok." It then dawned on me that at least one person should know where I am, that way if I die or disappear they'll know where to find my body and can end whatever monster killed me. "Btw, I'm in Santa Carla, Cali right now. Gonna get some free drinks at the first bar I find once the sun goes down and hustle some idiots out of their money. 😉"

It was now around noon and I was on my way to the boardwalk. Unlike the Winchesters, I prefer to not drink at all hours of the day so I was saving the bar for later. It would give me a chance to scope out which bar has the cheapest prices and happy hour wouldn't be for another 5 hours anyways. The wooden planks of the boardwalk creaked underneath the feet of all the people and the air was filled with screams from the rides and the laughter from the beach. The salty ocean air blended together seamlessly with the heavenly smells of junk food from the food stalls, bringing my attention to how hungry I was. I pulled out my wallet to see how much cash was in there. There was only a 20, a 5, and five 1's. Man, I had my work cut out for me tonight hustling at the bars. The nearest food stall had soft serve ice cream, so I got a medium cup of chocolate custard with rainbow jimmies and a bottle of water. It satisfied my stomach for now, but I knew that I would have to get something more substantial later once I had the money.

I threw out my trash and continued to investigate the boardwalk. Personally, I found it kind of ridiculous that there were tourist souvenirs all over the place that said, "I survived Santa Carla!" _Maybe I'll buy a keychain when I eventually leave this place._ Leaning up against a railing overlooking all the people on the beach, I considered buying a bathing suit from one of the stores so that could join them tomorrow. It was a tempting notion, but I wasn't sure that I wanted to make myself that vulnerable, cause after all, you can't store any weapons in a bathing suit. Just the thought made me wish that for once I wasn't a hunter and could live a normal life, blissfully ignorant to all that goes bump in the night. A sigh escaped me as I reminded myself of all the lives that I've saved. _Yeah, but you couldn't even save the lives of your father or Dean._ _Ugh, not helping._

Trying to get my head out of those negative thoughts, I went back to window shopping. Eventually I came upon a comic store and just had to go in. It's not like I knew much about comics or anything, but Sam used to read them whenever he could get his hands on some when we were younger. I guess a small part of me figured that I would buy some in case I ever ran into him again and we managed to patch everything up. I knew that this was just wishful thinking on my part, but it actually made me feel a little better imagining that scenario playing out. While gazing at the many different comic books, my hunter instincts kicked in and I instantly felt like I was being watched. When I looked up, my eyes were greeted by two men in at least their mid-30s staring at me.


	2. Meeting Frogs

p style="text-indent: .5in; margin-bottom: .11in; line-height: 108%;"strongDisclaimer: I don't own Lost Boys or Supernatural. I only own the rights to Brandy and any of the alterations I make to the stories of either franchise. /strong/p  
p style="text-indent: .5in; margin-bottom: .11in; line-height: 108%;"strongA/N: I had some trouble with this chapter, but here it is. Any criticism would be highly appreciated. I'm actually looking for a beta-reader for this story to run ideas by, make sure I represent the characters well, and help me with the Supernatural timeline (cause there is a lot and it gets confusing sometimes). PM me if you're interested in doing that. The chapters for this are probably going to be slow-coming, so I apologize to all readers in advance for that. Thank you so much for reading!/strong/p  
hr /  
p style="text-indent: .5in; margin-bottom: .11in; line-height: 108%;"Both men had brown hair, although the one on the left had a darker shade and seemed to favor keeping his short. The one on the right wore his hair like almost like a lion's mane. Lion-guy's eyes were a gray-blue and his friend's were just a normal dark brown. Short-hair was behind the register, leaning on the counter, while lion-guy looked to be restocking or reorganizing on opposite side of the self from me. Guess they both work here. Despite living at the beach and actually having some muscle, neither of them had a tan, which means that they probably spent a lot of time indoors. For two nerds, their military-esque get-up was pretty ridiculous and out of place. Deciding that I had had enough of this glare contest between all of us, I broke the silence./p  
p style="text-indent: .5in; margin-bottom: .11in; line-height: 108%;""Sorry to disappoint you boys, but you're not really my type. However, since I assume you know more about this stuff then I do, I could use some help here. What kind of comics would you get as a peace offering for a friend after you've had a big fight?" The slight pinkness of their cheeks and the brief break of their stiff, military stances due to being caught staring caused me to smirk at their awkwardness. As I walked more inside the store, the lion-guy followed me on the other side./p  
p style="text-indent: .5in; margin-bottom: .11in; line-height: 108%;""Just scoping your civilian wardrobe that's all. You definitely don't dress like a Surfer Nazi," the lion-guy started./p  
p style="text-indent: .5in; margin-bottom: .11in; line-height: 108%;""And not ridiculously crazy like a goth or punk. But also not like that of the typical tourist that come flocking here in droves." His friend finished his sentence smoothly, like they were one person. It was kind of creepy, to be honest, and I've seen a lot of creepy in my life, so that's saying something. It also didn't answer my question./p  
p style="text-indent: .5in; margin-bottom: .11in; line-height: 108%;""Okay," I drawled out, skimming the shelves and grabbing a random Batman comic to look through. "That doesn't really answer my question. Look, I didn't really come here to get interrogated, but since you seem to be indirectly asking, I'm not here to take in the sights and wear Hawaiian shirts. I'm just passing through really, don't plan on staying here too long." I paused to put the comic back on the shelf. "Name is Brandy Lockwood and who, may I ask, are you?" Finally at the end of the aisle, I punctuated my question by turning around to look at the two men and crossed my arms over my chest. Both were now standing arms-length away from me. Once again, they wavered from their military personas and shuffled awkwardly, obviously intimidated by me. Wasn't sure if that was because they don't talk to girls much, or because I was giving them a look that made even the battle-hardened Winchesters nervous. Regaining their composure, the lion-guy spoke up./p  
p style="text-indent: .5in; margin-bottom: .11in; line-height: 108%;""Edgar Frog, and this is my brother Alan," Edgar gestured to his brother with his head when he introduced him./p  
p style="text-indent: .5in; margin-bottom: .11in; line-height: 108%;""We own the store," Alan spoke up. Edgar moved and pulled a comic off the shelf before coming back over./p  
p style="text-indent: .5in; margin-bottom: .11in; line-height: 108%;""Here, it's a personal favorite of ours. Consider it a complimentary comic for your first visit here. I'm sure this friend of yours will probably like it," he explained as he handed me the comic. As I took the comic and looked at the cover, I started laughing so hard that my eyes started to water. With the large title "Vampires Everywhere!" partnered with the corniest depiction of vampires underneath it, it just seemed extremely comical to someone who had dealt with the real deal on more than one occasion. In fact, I couldn't help but think how ironic it was that they handed me this comic. It would be the perfect comic to give to Sammy if we ever saw each other again and made up. Not to mention, I could get a little entertainment out of it before then. Finally calming my laughter and rubbing my eyes dry, I realized how ridiculous and strange that reaction might have been. Edgar and Alan were giving me looks that were a mixture between shocked and almost wary./p  
p style="text-indent: .5in; margin-bottom: .11in; line-height: 108%;""Sorry about that, it's just that my friend really likes vampires, so I found it extremely hilarious that you just so happen to recommend this comic. It's perfect, so thanks." The lie rolled off my tongue without hesitation and they seemed to buy the explanation. Deciding that I'd had enough of these two and I'd gotten what I wanted, I started walking out. They separated from each other's side to let me pass. "Well, maybe I'll see you around boys," I said over my shoulder. Before I got too far away from them, I felt one of them grab my shoulder and had to resist the instinct to attack./p  
p style="text-indent: .5in; margin-bottom: .11in; line-height: 108%;""Wait," I heard Alan say, so I turned around showing my annoyance, but this time they didn't back down from my glare. "Be careful when it gets dark out. Santa Carla got the whole 'murder capital of the world' title for a reason. There's more than just your ordinary creeps hanging out in the shadows." I sighed and rolled my eyes./p  
p style="text-indent: .5in; margin-bottom: .11in; line-height: 108%;""Thanks for the warning, but I'm actually quite capable of taking care of myself. Trust me, if someone messes with me, you should be more worried about them than me," I replied to their warning. And before they could respond to that, I once again turned around and walked out of the shop./p  
p style="text-indent: .5in; margin-bottom: .11in; line-height: 108%;"Since having a comic on me would ruin my plans for later, I decided to make the walk back to my room to drop it off before coming back to the boardwalk and scoping out the bars. When I got to my room, I realized that I forgot to put on my watch, so I threw that on my wrist. It would be annoying if I had to keep pulling out my phone to check the time. As I was walking out, I briefly paused to stare at the bed and consider whether to try taking a nap. Deciding against it for fear of more nightmares, despite of being a little tired just looking at the bed, I once again left the room and returned to the boardwalk./p  
p style="text-indent: .5in; margin-bottom: .11in; line-height: 108%;"I looked around for the shadiest bars I could find because they usually had the cheapest prices. It wasn't too hard, since most of the bars here were pretty sketchy. I immediately ruled out all the of the bars that were also dance clubs since they tend to not have pool tables and also are much easier to get mugged in. By the time I finally decided on a bar, the sun was starting to set. I walked in and sat down at a free stool at the bar. The bartender was a tall, dark, and handsome guy around my age in a tight black t-shirt with the bars logo on it. The second he saw me, he sent me flirtatious smirk and walked over to lean on his elbow in front of me./p  
p style="text-indent: .5in; margin-bottom: .11in; line-height: 108%;""Hey there beautiful, what can I get you?" he asked, and I smiled back. Tucking some hair behind my ear and pretending to be a little coy, I decided that I would start off light and seductive with my alcohol./p  
p style="text-indent: .5in; margin-bottom: .11in; line-height: 108%;""Hmmm…how about a glass of the darkest shiraz you've got?" I replied./p  
p style="text-indent: .5in; margin-bottom: .11in; line-height: 108%;""I know just the thing. Be back in a sec," he walked down the bar to the wines, grabbed one, and poured me an almost full glass. "Here you go, angel. Consider this first one on the house," he said as he set the glass down in front of me and winked. I chuckled a little before taking the glass. It was a deep crimson color that if it weren't for the lights in the bar, would appear black./p  
p style="text-indent: .5in; margin-bottom: .11in; line-height: 108%;""Thanks, hot stuff, it's perfect," I took a sip and turned the stool away from the bar to rest my elbow not holding my glass on the bar and look around the pool table for potential victims to hustle. I sat there for a while, just taking in the drunken atmosphere and trying to make my drink last. Despite my attempt, I was already halfway through my third glass of wine before an interesting group of men walked in. They were ridiculously hot and looked like they walked straight out of the 80s. Who would have thought that mullets could actually be attractive? The one with said platinum blond mullet made eye contact and smiled at me as he led his group to one of the pool tables. I of course smirked back at him. He was wearing all black, topped with a sick black trench coat that looked very warm. In fact, the only color that any of them really seemed to be wearing was the one guy's jacket that was covered in bright patches. I really couldn't help but smile at their confidence and extremely good looks, and also the fact that before the end of the night I was going to hustle the hell out of them./p  
p style="text-indent: .5in; margin-bottom: .11in; line-height: 108%;"I decided to wait until they had played a couple games and got a couple beers down each before engaging with them. All the while I moved onto my fourth glass of wine, thankful that over the years I had built up a somewhat intolerance to alcohol, so I was still very much competent. I made sure to send the boys in the group and their leader flirtatious looks and smiles the whole time as well. When they finished up their second game I decided to strike. Picking up my glass, I sauntered over to the group of guys, pretending to be more drunk and ditzy than I actually was./p  
p style="text-indent: .5in; margin-bottom: .11in; line-height: 108%;""Hey boys, name's Brandy, mind if I join you?" I asked, picking up a pool stick that would be way to long for my size. They all looked at each other with smug smiles before they all turned back to me./p  
p style="text-indent: .5in; margin-bottom: .11in; line-height: 108%;""Sure thing, sweetheart," the blonde in all black without the trench coat told me, leaning on his pool stick./p 


End file.
